Children of Albion: The next Dragon Lord
by eJemima
Summary: Merlin had stayed in the shadows, as life went by. He lives by a principle of not getting invovled, until a young boy catches his attention and takes him under his wing. A decade later, an old foe returns and Merlin soon finds himself teaching young wizards and witches about magic, protecting and preparing them for an upcoming war. However, this is only the beginning...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Okay, so this is something new for me. This is the first time I'm making a real crossover fic, so I'm a bit nervous about it :S

I've made single Harry Potter fics and single Merlin fic, however this is the first time I'm combining two of my favourites. I came across some videos that combined the two fandoms and got inspired.

I'm still working on my Merlin fiction, so no worries there ;)

Disclaimer and warnings:

I don't own Merlin or Harry Potter, only the plot.

Also, this story will EVENTUALLY have Drarry and Merthur, just so you know ;)

Now, without further ado, here's **Children of Albion**

* * *

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy took off his jacket, hang it on the hook and kicked off his shoes.

"Hey, old man!" He called and stepped into the living room of the small house. Looking around he crooked a smile, finding the bearded man slumped in the worn-out chair, sleeping soundly. The 16-year-old boy carefully stepped up to the chair, a smug smile on his lips, as he reached out his hand. The words were ready on his mouth, hand raised and at ready, however before the words could be spoken, Malfoy was thrown back and froze in mid-air, just before he hit a bookshelf.

A delighted chuckled erupted from the chair, as the old man stood up and looked at Malfoy with gentle amusement.

"You're still a thousand years too early to try and pull something on me, young Draco." He said between the chuckles. Blue eyes glowed golden and Malfoy slowly dropped to the ground.

"You could have let me have this one." He said standing up, dusting off his clothes and gave the old man a pout.

"Why ever would I do that?" The old man replied with a smirk and gave Malfoy a look. Letting out a loud moan, he stretched out his old body and proceeded to head for the kitchen, signaling Malfoy to follow him.

"What brings you here?" He asked, as he made ready for tea. Malfoy gave a small shrug and dropped down in one the chairs by the kitchen table.

He looked around the kitchen.

Malfoy knew the old man and the house well, having come here on a regular basis since he was a kid. Whenever he had felt the pressure from his parents and especially his father, becoming too much, Malfoy had visited the old neighbor.

His parents along with the rest of the magical neighborhood, saw the man as a harmless old coot, but Malfoy knew the man to be more powerful than anyone else he knew of. He might be on level with Dumbledore and Voldemort, if not stronger. However, he was not one to join a fight and preferred to keep to himself.

Malfoy didn't know how old the white bearded man was. Sometimes, when Malfoy met his eyes, the man seemed almost… timeless. It was as if he was as old as magic itself. As if he had lived a thousand life times and seen nations rise and fall.

His eyes held this eternal sadness, as if he had forever lost a part of himself.

Malfoy swallowed hard and looked down at his hands.

He remembered having asked the man about it, one time when he was younger, to which the old man had answered, that he hoped Malfoy would never understand the reason behind his sadness first hand.

Never the less, despite all the mystery that surrounded the man, Malfoy enjoyed his company and it wasn't only because of the wandless magic, which he had taught him over the years. There was just something, both refreshing and calming, about the old man's demeanor and presence.

"It's ehm…" Malfoy began and bobbed his legs a little nervous. Biting his lips, Malfoy wondered if he should tell the old man about what was going on, in the wizarding world. He had, on several occasions, expressed his disinterest in what went on and had made a point in telling Malfoy that he really didn't want to get involved with anything outside the four walls of his own house. This indifference may be the reason for the other people in the neighborhood disregarding him as crazy.

"It's Voldemort." Malfoy breathed out, feeling the cold shiver, as he spoke the feared name.

**…**

He stopped for a moment and glanced back at the boy. He had lost count of how many times the young sorcerer had visited him. Despite the promise he had made to himself, centuries ago, about not letting himself getting involved with anyone, the blonde boy had somehow managed to break his resolve, when he had first turned up at his doorstep, 10 years ago. There had been something about the young boy's prattiness, which had reminded him of someone he once held very dear.

Through the boy, he had learned about the matters of the 20th century magic and its world. A hidden world, somewhat separated from those without magic. It wasn't the balanced peace between magic and non-magic, for which he had fought for, however this was better than those with magic being hunted down and killed.

It was… peaceful.

For most parts anyway.

Apparently, a sort of diversity had appeared, deeming those without magic or born by non-magical parents of less value, than those with. He had to laugh at this. People with magic had certainly managed to turn things around over time.

All this seemed to be enforced by this Voldemort character, whom the boy had mentioned a few times before. Apparently, he was a big deal in the modern magical world. He let out a sigh and walked to the boy, handing him a mug of hot tea, before sitting down across from him.

"What about him?" He asked, not really wanting to know, but feeling that this was something the boy needed to get off his chest.

Grey eyes met his blue, with a hint of surprise and hope.

"He's eh… he is back…" The boy stammered and clutched the mug, knuckles turning white, "and he has settled in my home. My parents they… they're bowing to his every word, as if he's this great messiah, when in reality everything he does is…" The boy stopped and shivered visibly, no doubt remembering something unpleasant, before he finished, "evil."

He hummed and took a sip of his coffee, contemplating on the boy's words. He had felt a stirring in the magic, in a way he hadn't for centuries. He'd had dreams, visions about familiar faces in new environments along with unfamiliar faces.

Something in the Old religion was moving, but could it really have something to do with what the boy was telling him? Could it be connected and if so, what was he supposed to do? He had spent centuries fleeing from the world, how was he supposed to get back into it?

"Old man?" The boy asked, giving him a questioning look. He cleared his throat and put down his mug.

"This man, you've mentioned that he has been at large before?" He asked curiously, "How did you deal with him before?"

The boy shook his head and a small, almost unnoticeable blush appeared in his pale cheeks. A blush which caught the old man's attention.

"There was this toddler… when Voldemort tried to kill him, the curse backfired on himself." He explained and looked away, "He's been gone for 14 years, but last year he returned, more powerful than before and now…" The boy looked up at him, "I can't believe you don't know about the boy-who-lived, it's like the most popular story ever."

The old man rose a brow.

"Really?" He asked and stood up, gathering the mugs, "More popular than the legend of Merlin?"

The boy blinked a few times, then laughed.

"Merlin? The legendary warlock, said to be the most powerful sorcerer to have lived? Said to be magic itself? Really?" He chuckled and shook his head, "Merlin is nothing but a fairy tale, whereas the boy-who-lived is actually real."

The old man huffed, feeling somewhat offended, turning away from the boy. Fairy tale? He had never…

"Oh really!?" He said, not entirely able to hide a snap, "If this boy is so great, then why don't he just rid you of the Voldemort character again?"

The boy gave the old man a look, confused by his sudden change of mood.

"I'm sure Harry won't nothing more than defeat him, but he's still only a teenager," The boy said, biting his lips again, "There's no way a heavy burden should be on someone as young as us." He said and looked up at the old man, "We're children, not soldiers."

He looked back at the boy, who suddenly looked much older than he was, a heavy burden weighing him down.

He was right.

This wasn't something which should befall someone so young. He, himself hadn't been much older than them, when he had taken part in his first war, however that had been another time, a time where one had been forced to grow up early. Times had changed and so had people. It was evident that modern kids wouldn't be ready for something like this at such an early age and they shouldn't.

"And besides there's her," The boy added, voice shaking, "At first she was just a dream – a haunting nightmare, but then she was suddenly right in front of me and very real." He shivered visibly, as he shook his head. Hands fiddling together in visible fear, "Her magic, it's the same as the kind you've been teaching me. I can feel her and it's so, so cold and dark." He dried a tear away as they started falling freely, "I'm really scared." He then admitted and looked up at the old man, "I've never felt anything like it and I thought… I hoped that maybe you would…"

He felt his heart break a little for the boy in front of him and without thinking, he pulled him in for an embrace.

"I'm sorry." He whispered gently, "I'm sorry it has come to this."

…

"You know." A sudden voice spoke behind him, as he was cleaning up the kitchen. He recognized the voice and let out a sigh, as he continued with the washing.

"You know what it means. Like me, you can feel it, if not more." The voice continued, "You've been hiding long enough, Master. It's time to-"

"I know!" He shouted annoyed and threw a spoon in the sink, finally turning towards his guest, "Believe me Aithusa, I know." He added and gave the man a look. The young man was dressed in an all-white suite, making his pastel skin, white hair and big, pale blue eyes stand out. With time, the dragon had learned to take human form, something they both had found came in handy, especially as the world grew more estranged to the magic creatures. Aithusa sighed and uncrossed his arms, taking a step closer.

"I realize it's been a while for you, but this is not just about us." He said with a sense of urgency, looking at his master, sadness evident in his eyes, "They need you, now more than ever and you know why." He paused for a moment, before he added, "You've seen her."

The old man drew a shaky breath and nodded, as he looked away.

"The crystals have been very clear about her part in all this." He admitted, leaning against the kitchen table, hands clutching the edge tensely, "But he's not here, I'm not sure I can… without him, I.."

Aithusa rolled his eyes and smacked the back of his master's head hard, earning a pained groan and a glare from him.

"Do I really need to remind you of who you are?" He asked incredulously, "You really need to stop living in the past. It's been 1500 years already! Get over it, old man!"

"Who are you calling old?" He then replied, a small smirk growing in the corner of his mouth.

"I've still got 20 years on you." Aithusa pointed out smugly.

"Not if we count the 400 years you spend in your egg." The old man insisted stubbornly, not really liking being called 'old', despite Draco calling him this on numerous occasions.

"Well, we don't." Aithusa said, "But all jokes aside, Merlin…"

The old man nodded and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh,

"Yeah, I know…" Then he grabbed a towel and dried his hands, as he walked back towards the living room, "What I don't know is how or why." He said and headed to one of his shelves, looking over his books, "Draco said he had had dreams about her, before actually meeting her…"

"It seems there's more to the boy you've been mentoring, than you first anticipated." Aithusa pointed out, joining the old man in the living room, "You think he has the gift as well?"

"It would seem so..." He admitted and took down a book, opening it carefully, "But how… and more importantly; why? What are the goddesses plotting?" He asked, no one in particular, as he picked up a white crystal from the hollow pocket in the book, "That's what I'd like to know."

…

It was a quiet evening at the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. It was still mid-summer and the students were yet to come back from their long summer holiday. The halls were empty as the remaining teachers had had dinner and had all retired to their private chambers.

The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, sat in office, going through some papers as preparation to the new school year. As had been the case for the past five years, the school needed a new Defense against the dark arts teacher, and as it was, it wasn't a position which were too desired having earned a bad reputation. However, it seemed Severus was still interested in the position, despite it all, and Dumbledore felt that he might have to agree, however, that left the position of the positions master vacant.

Dumbledore sighed and drove a hand through his long beard. Would making Severus the defense teacher really be wise, considering what went on with Voldemort though? The headmaster threw out the document he had been writing and took another to start anew with a frustrated sigh.

Fawkes cooed at him, telling him it would be alright and a second later a sudden wind stirred up inside the office. Dumbledore stood up immediately, wand at ready and on guard. He was pretty sure that the defenses were still up and apparating into school was impossible, however there was no doubt that the sudden winds were caused by magic.

He was about to cast a disarming spell, when a figure appeared in the winds, however his wand was ripped out of his hand, and he stood back, eyes wide in surprise and fear as the wind settled down.

"Albus Dumbledore, I presume." A young man asked as he stepped out in the middle of the office, the winds fading to nothing. Dumbledore stood frozen as he stared at the raven-haired man, meeting clear blue eyes.

Fawkes let out a shriek, which more than anything sounded like uncontrolled excitement, before it flew to the young man.

"Fawkes." The man said and smiled as the phoenix landed on his outstretched arm, "You're still around, huh?"

Fawkes hooted pleasantly as it caressed the man's cheeks with it head. Dumbledore stared at the scene dumbfounded.

"Who...?" The Headmaster asked confused and took a step forward. Fear had left in favor of confusion as he knew that any person who Fawkes accepted, was someone to be trusted.

Blue eyes met his, as a small smile kept over the man's lips.

"Come now, Albus." He said gently, "Don't let the young appearance fool you. A man like you should be able to tell who I am."

Dumbledore squinted his eyes, looking at the other man, as he stepped closer to him. He held the eyes, staring into them, looking for an answer. He let out a small gasp at what he found.

Time.

Wisdom.

Magic.

"Don't tell me," He began, his voice shaking in disbelief, "You're... you're Merlin...?"

The young man smiled and nodded before he gave a small formal bow.

"I knew you knew." He then said and let Fawkes back to his place, "You have always been a very bright boy, Albus." He added affectionally and winked at the old man.

Dumbledore shook his head in disbelief and took a step back.

"But how?" He asked troubled, "Why? You, you've never... and frankly speaking, people have long gone stopped believing you've ever been real."

Merlin chuckled and turned to Dumbledore.

"Yeah, so I've realized." He said with humor as if he remembered something specific, "And it's fine that way, in fact, it's probably safest that way."

"What do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, a curiosity stirring up in him. For what reason would the greatest hero and legend of the wizarding world, suddenly appear and yet not letting people know who he was?

Merlin gave Dumbledore a long and serious look, before he let out a long breath and pinched his nose.

"I've been informed about this wizard, Voldemort?" He began, as he walked past Dumbledore, to the chair in front of the desk, "I know you've dealt with him before. While I've lived by the principle of not getting involved, I am being kept updated in what's going on. I feel it," Merlin said and met Dumbledore's eyes again, "in the magic." He elaborated and paused for a moment, giving Dumbledore a chance to understand, "I was planning on letting you deal with Voldemort this time as well…"

"But…?" Dumbledore asked, giving the sorcerer a curious look, "You decided to come out and help us? What changed?"

Merlin drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. He closed his eyes for a moment, before he met Dumbledore's eyes again.

"Well for one, there's this boy," Merlin answered with a crooked smile, "who was pleading for help and then there's _her_."

Dumbledore blinked and gave Merlin a confused look, as he sat down behind his desk, facing the sorcerer.

"Her?"

"An ally." Merlin said, "Someone he didn't have last time. An old… acquaintance of mine."

It took a little while before Dumbledore understood to who Merlin was referring, however the moment he realized an icy cold shiver ran down his spine. He had grown up with the stories of the warlock and so, he knew. He gave a short nod, telling the man he understood.

"Thank you." Dumbledore said, his voice nothing but a gentle whisper, however it seemed Merlin heard none the less as he nodded. The warlock stood up without another word and turned, getting ready to leave, however Dumbledore called out to him.

"We're one teacher short this year," Dumbledore said and braced himself for asking someone like Merlin the question, "It would be a great honor if you would take on that position, especially if what you just told me is true. It would mean a lot, if you could help keeping the children safe here."

Merlin closed his eyes and let out a small sigh, before he turned to face Dumbledore again.

"I'm not sure that your Ministry would approve what I would teach the children." He said and crooked a smirk. Dumbledore smiled in return.

"Oh, that's what I'm counting on it, Mr. Merlin."

* * *

**A/N:** First chapter done. How did you like it? Please let me know ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Chapter two for you guys!

Thank you so much for all the reviews! You are amazing!

So, in case you haven't noticed, the story has gotten an added title: **The next Dragon Lord**, and this is because the story is gonna have two parts, this being the first.

It's gonna be a sixth year and seveneth year thing, just so you know :)

Also, I should mention that I had noted the story feature Arthur, however he won't show up until part two.

Sorry :S

But you got Morgana instead, so I hope you will manage ;)

Hope you like this.

Enjoy :)

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Chapter Two

Draco closed the main door and let out a long sigh. He could hear the echoed murmur of the people gathered in the dining hall and quietly moved straight for his bedroom. He really didn't want to be highjacked and forced into attend another of their meetings. He didn't want to be in the same room as them, more than necessary. Draco had gotten his instructions, his so-called mission and until it was done, he hoped he didn't have to face any of them.

Draco felt the icy cold before he heard the door and froze half across the hall.

"Well, well if it isn't the young Malfoy." The voice struck him like piercing icicles, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on hiding his magic and emptying his mind, so the woman, slowly coming up behind him, wouldn't be able to read him. It was something the old man had taught him, telling him that the kind of magic, he was teaching him, wasn't exactly legal, in the eyes of the ministry. Letting out a deep breath, Draco opened his eyes and turned towards the woman.

"It's rare, to bump into you," She said and gave him a sweet smile, stopping right in front of him, her eyes locking on his, "I get the feeling that you're avoiding us?"

Draco returned the smile and held her gaze.

"Not at all, Lady Morgana." He answered, somehow able to keep his voice straight and himself calm, "I just have a lot of… preparations before school starts. You understand?"

Morgana crooked her head and gave him a curt nod, holding his eyes for another silent minute.

"Well, I do hope to get to know you a little better, before you have to leave." She finally said and took a step back, "After all, we're counting on you."

Draco returned the nod in understanding and gave a small bow before the turned and headed for his chamber.

Morgana watched the young man, as he took the stairs in a few quick steps.

"Wormtail!" She called and headed back to the living room. The small man appeared before her the next second and opened the door for her.

"My Lady?" He asked, voice shaking in barely controlled fear.

"Keep an eye on the boy." She said and picked up her dress, joining the others around the long table. Wormtail kneeled down next to her.

"The boy?" He asked confused, as he glanced at Voldemort for confirmation.

"The Malfoy boy, there's something off about him…" She said thoughtful and looked up at the boy's mother, who looked back at her confused. She then heard a small chuckle from Voldemort.

"About Draco?" He asked and covered his mouth, trying to hold back his laughs, "The boy is my pawn and I've got him right where I want."

The people around the table laughed along with Voldemort, however Morgana merely glared at him.

"I once underestimated someone I thought I knew and that person ended up killing me," She spat hatefully, causing the others to stop mid laughter, "So excuse me Tom, for being a little extra cautious in this life."

Voldemort's chuckles faded, as he dried away the tears that had appeared because of his laughs.

"Well, no worries my Lady," He assured her and waved his hand in the air, dismissing her, "Draco is completely harmless."

Morgana gave the Dark Lord a last look, before she huffed and looked away, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, letting the meeting continue. The deformed fool could think whatever he wanted, it would be his funeral. She couldn't let go of the feeling that something wasn't right with the Malfoy boy.

Morgana had spent the better part of a thousand earth years as the Cailleach, gatekeeper to the Spirit world, before she was released last Samhain, by the wizard Tom Riddle, on the condition that she helped him with a 'little matter'.

Ever since her return to the living, Morgana had become even more sensitive to magic. She was able to sense it, however little, in every person carrying it. For some reason, the magic was restrained in every person she'd met, and Morgana had to wonder, why you as a sorcerer would willingly restrain your own magic. But apparently, that's how it was for modern sorcery.

No doubt some sort of compromise with the non-magical folk.

However, she hadn't been able to feel anything from the Malfoy boy just now. She hadn't been able to read him at all. Which was odd, since he was supposed to carry, at least some amount of magic.

Alternative was, that he was somehow hiding it, something which required old magic. Very old magic.

**…**

Draco shut the door behind him and let out a breath he had been holding back as he slid down to the floor. He opened and closed his icy cold hands, trying to warm them up. He was shivering like crazy, feeling the cold penetrating his every inch of his body.

It was like this whenever he met the woman that Voldemort had brought into his home. She left a cold and feeling of complete hopelessness so intense, that it took everything Draco had learnt about connecting with his magic, to not get lost and give up on everything entirely.

He closed his eyes and pulled up his legs, focusing on his magic and soon he felt the warmth starting to spread from within. He let out a sigh of relief and looked up. Draco crooked a gentle smile, when he saw that his dark room was increasingly lit up by small strings of warm light, floating about in the room.

"Much better." He mumbled and got up from the floor. Dusting off his clothes, his eyes landed on the desk where he found an unfamiliar book and a note.

_Some light reading for the rest of your summer._

_-Old man_

Draco put down the note and huffed, looking at the old book.

Light reading? The book was at least a few thousand pages and by the looks of it, written in Anglo-Saxon.

"Drýcræft*." Draco read aloud from the dusty cover, then shrugged and threw himself on his bed, opening the first page.

The old man had been very insistent on educating Draco in the old languages, such as Anglo-Saxon, Latin, Germanic and Wallisian, reasoning that a lot of old and important works were written in the ancient languages, as were quite a few powerful spells. Draco was just thankful that he had a good ear for languages. It had made the long hours under the old man's strict teaching a bit more tolerable.

Draco smiled to himself. Some 'light' reading would be a nice distraction from what went on in his house and what the new school year was sure to bring.

**…**

He dried his sweaty palms in his pants for the hundredth time, as he looked around the chaotic and crowded platform. He hadn't felt this exposed since his last trial 700 years ago, which was also the last time he had worn his young face, except for the short meeting with the Hogwarts Headmaster. A face, which brought forth so many memories and feelings, making him feel more vulnerable that he liked. He had tried to turn back several times on his way here, however every time he would remember Aithusa's words of urgency. This was not just him. Something was stirring and he needed to do this, to figure out what. Taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it, he stepped on the train, joining hundreds of excited kids on their journey, some taking it for the first time, while others for the last.

He found an empty compartment and dropped himself by the window. Getting into the school hadn't been any problem. Somehow, the headmaster, Dumbledore had realized who he was, not long after his appearance in the headmaster's office. Seeing an old man like him, surprised and excited as a small kid had been surreal, however when the man had regained his composure, he had immediately offered him a job, as a new teacher at the school.

He hadn't taught magic since the first years of Albion, so this would be a nice change of pace, while he tried to figure out what was going on.

He had barely gotten himself comfortable in the seat and closed his eyes, planning to take a small nap, when the compartment door opened, and voices were followed by three kids entering.

"Excuse me, "A girl with brown, curly hair said, as two boys, one red head and another one with raven hair and glasses followed her, "Do you mind if we join you?" She asked politely. He shook his head and motioned them to sit down. They nodded in thanks and sat, soon beginning to talk amongst themselves in low voices.

He leaned back in the seat and looked out the darkening sky, watching the three kids in the widow reflection. It wasn't a coincidence that it was these three, who had entered his compartment. He knew this, the moment he had seen them.

He had seen them before. All three of them, in some of the more recent dreams and visions. Even the crystals had showed their faces on several occasions. Whatever was happening, these three was at the center of it.

They hadn't driven for long before he realized how they were involved. He recognized one of the names amongst them. The black-haired boy with the glasses, Harry – the boy who lived, who Draco had mentioned. He let out resigned sigh, realizing that everything was indeed connected.

Even more so, he realized that if these three, from his visions appeared before him now, how about the rest of his visions? The rest of the crystal's prophecies? The thought of them becoming a reality, made a cold shiver run down his spine. He watched the three teens for a moment.

It really wasn't fair.

Like Draco, it wasn't fair that someone, this young, should have to be part in what the future had in store.

It just wasn't.

He was brought out of his reverie when he realized that the girl was talking to him. He blinked a few times and excused himself, asking her to repeat what she had said. She gave him a small smile and sat down in front of him.

"Are you by any chance a new teacher?" She asked and crooked her head, looking at him curiously. He cleared his throat and sat up straight, before he gave her a small nod.

"I'm…" He paused for a moment. While Dumbledore knew who he was, they had agreed that with what went on and especially if she was in the mix, it was better to try and keep himself anonymous for as long as he could. It was better for everyone this way.

"Call me Emerson." He said finally and accepted the girl's hand. The girl nodded and smiled.

"I'm Hermione Granger, "She said, introducing herself, shaking his hand, "and these two are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. We're here for our sixth year."

…

Draco Malfoy was walking a few steps behind Blaise and Pansy, on their way to the Slytherin dungeon after the welcoming feast.

Dumbledore's speech had been less than optimistic, but what had he expected? Draco, more than anyone, knew how dangerous times they were in and it seemed the rest of the wizarding world had woken from their slumber. They had finally realized what Harry had told them two years ago about the Dark lord's return, had been true.

Harry Potter.

For every year going by, Draco hated it more and more.

The acting and the hurting.

Maybe the stun and kick on the train earlier had been unnecessary, but hopefully it conveyed the message.

Stay away.

Draco sighed at his own ignorance and drove a hand through his blonde hair tiredly.

Who was he kidding, really?

This was Harry bloody Potter, _the _most nosy and meddlesome guy to have ever walked the halls of Hogwarts. It would defiantly take more than a broken nose to keep him away.

"You okay there Draco?" Pansy asked in front of him and glanced back, giving him a slightly worried look, "You're sighing an awful lot." Draco looked at the two as they stopped in front of him and looked back.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He lied, "It's nothing." Draco really didn't want to involve his friends in what was going on or the task he had been given.

He couldn't.

Draco had been chosen for this and it was his burden to bear and his alone. Even Snape seemed to be more over him than usual. Honestly, Draco was already getting sick of the professor babying him and it was only the first day of term. Like this, it was going to be a very long year.

He gave his friends a look and they exchanged a glance, seeming to accept his answer, although not necessarily believing him.

Why couldn't people just leave him alone already?

Draco heard heartfelt laughter behind him and turned his head. His eyes landed on the golden trio and more specifically Harry Potter, as they headed for the stairs that would lead them to the Gryffindor tower. Draco felt relieved to see, that Potter seemed to have somehow recovered from the broken nose he had given him earlier and was now laughing with his friends.

As Draco watched them, his eyes briefly met Potter's and Draco realized that the laughter didn't reach the other boy's eyes. Instead he found a deep sadness and frustration hidden in the chosen one. It was Potter who first looked away and turned his attention back to his friends, putting up a laugh at something Weasley had said.

Draco drew a shaky breath, ignoring the tingle in his stomach and turned back to his friends, as they continued down to the dungeon.

Of cause, Harry Potter wouldn't be okay. He had lost his godfather and half of the people wanted him dead, while the other half expected him to do the impossible.

Even the strongest person would break under such pressure. Draco only knew this all too well.

Draco and his friends rounded a corner, almost reaching the Slytherin chambers, when they bumped into someone.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, just the boy I was looking for!"

Draco gave the man in front of them an odd look. It was the young man, who Dumbledore earlier had introduced to the student body, as their new teacher in Defense against the dark arts, Professor Emerson. He looked at Draco with deep blue eyes, which seemed familiar, however Draco couldn't quite put a finger on why. Otherwise, the raven black hair and slightly pale skin, didn't seem to ring a bell. He gave a nod to Pansy and Blaise telling them to go on without him, before he turned to the professor.

"Do I know you?" Draco asked and gave the new teacher a skeptical look. The professor chuckled wholeheartedly, which trickered yet another feeling of recognition with the him.

"Te esse adhuc mille annis est, et diluculo ad experiri aliquid trahere in me, iuvenes magus.**" He said and winked at the confused boy.

Latin? Why did the professor suddenly speak Latin to him? And wait, what had he said?

Draco eyes suddenly widened in surprise as things clicked in place. The eyes, the chuckle and the Latin words.

"Old man?!" He exclaimed confused. The professor chuckled and nodded, patting him affectionately on the shoulder.

"You're not completely lost behind, are you kid?"

"But how?! Why are you here!?" Draco asked, still not quite comprehending the man in front of him, "Just who are you?!"

"Well, I'm defiantly more than 'just a fairy tale', I can tell you that." He answered with a small huff and crossed his arms. Referring to something Draco had said when he last visited.

"No way... You're Merlin?" He asked astounded, "_The_ Merlin!?"

* * *

**A/N: **Yeaih, reveal!

So, how did you like it? Please let me know :)

Also, here's some translations, just in case you don't know anglo-saxon and Latin ;)

*Magic

**"You're still a thousand years too early to try and pull something on me, young sorcerer."


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